


A Newer Hope

by Puzzled



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 14:38:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7688278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Puzzled/pseuds/Puzzled
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Skywalker and Kenobi, they had been the heroes of the Clone Wars. The Ghost's crew is the first to see their new incarnation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Newer Hope

Skywalker was a freak with the saber.  

Ezra watched the boy, barely a month removed from the desert, facing Kanan and nearly equalling him.  The two were dueling in a cargo hold, whirling, twisting, striking, as he and Kenobi watched, the only two of the spectators with the ability to truly see their motions.

He had to fight down a surge of jealousy, he’d been training for far longer and had already had been surpassed.  Skywalker’s effortless skill had come so quickly and easily that it had been only a few lessons before he’d first lost.  The farm boy had looked so happy victorious, staring down at Ezra with his buzzing sword to his throat that Kenobi had nearly been stricken at the sight. He got that way sometimes when he saw Skywalker move, seeing shades of his former apprentice and partner.

The Jedi Master wasn’t even that old but he’d already lost the closest thing he’d had to a son in Anakin.  His exile on Tatooine had completed the aging that grief started. For a man squarely in his middle ages he looked ancient, as if the best of him died with the Republic and his friends.  Seeing Luke, apparently conceived in defiance to all the Jedi codes, a younger version of his father must bring back memories of happier times, before the Empire.

The duel was winding to a close though. For all of Skywalker’s preternatural skill Kanan was decades more experienced, as well as a foot taller and stronger. Skywalker’s strength in the Force couldn’t completely compensate for technique and muscle mass.  With two blindingly fast slashes and a subtle twist Skywalker’s blade went soaring through the air, even as Kanan’s blue saber found his way to his throat.

The crew of the  _ Emancipator  _ clapped, yet another change from their routine since they’d been joined by Kenobi and Skywalker.  Hera had received an urgent transmission and they’d abandoned their mission, barely even taking the time to get departure clearance.  The orders sent the Ghost racing through space, burning fuel extravagantly to punch halfway around the Outer Rim to a random waste of a planet.  

They’d dove into the atmosphere, headed not to the cities but to a random cluster of buildings. General Kenobi and Skywalker were waiting there, standing in the endless dunes.  Skywalker had a blinding smile as he watched them land and the experienced insurrectionist that Ezra felt himself to be had scoffed at his naitivity.  The ramp had barely been lowered before they were on their way again, this time headed to a random point in the darkness between the stars.  

It had been the Rebel “fleet” if such a motley assemblage of vessels could be called such.  Stolen Separatist battlecruisers, freighters, pre-clone wars vintage frigates, compared to the gleaming star destroyers and the industrial might exemplified by the tie fighters it seemed insignificant.  Ezra had wondered what Kenobi thought of it. He had been a general, commanding tens of thousands of men and the most advanced warships ever built.  It seemed like he’d have to scoff at the battered vessels.

He hadn’t though. The General had instead set to training both Ezra and Skywalker with a curious intensity.  They spent hours each day running, meditating, balancing and sparring.  Compared to Kanan’s more casual efforts, whenever the mission or space allowed, Kenobi’s tutelage felt like they were almost in the old Jedi temple.  Looking at either of the two Jedi would ruin that illusion though.  Both of them had impressive sabacc faces, but neither of them could completely conceal their sadness as they watched them race over pallets and spar in cramped cargo holds.  For Ezra and Skywalker this was an adventure, a call to arms for a glorious future. For them, it was just a reminder of what they’d lost.

He straightened as Skywalker made a beeline to Kenobi, using his hands to pantomime the duelists’ positions as he described the fight they’d all just watched.  Kanan, damp with sweat, took a towel Hera offered and pulled her into a hug as she squawked.  He threw Ezra a grin as he held her under his arm and pulled her along. “So did you see the moves at the end? Did you notice how I got him to overcommit?” 

Ezra hadn’t really, Skywalker's entire style seemed to be overcommitting, relying on his precognition and force aided speed to get him out of jams until it couldn’t.  The worst part was that he wasn’t only gifted with speed and overconfidence. The Force gave him crushing power at will, his blows fell like hammers whenever he abandoned subtlety and just bashed his way through the guards.  Even Kanan didn’t meet them strength to strength, Skywalker’s power in the force was such that directly going against it was foolish.

Ezra might have waited just a bit too long to answer because Kanan was smirking at him, their padawan bond communicated far too much at times.  The emotions that slipped through the other way late at night alone were scarring.  “He does just keep charging doesn’t he? He’s too aggressive, a good duelist would just keep waiting up until he left himself just a little too exposed, and cut his hands off.”

“So why didn’t you dear?” Hera’s elbow to his side made Kanan let out a huff of air.  “Just showboating to beat a young boy?”

“You know me far too well.” At last she wriggled free of his grip, although she stayed close to listen.  “There’s not quite enough room in the holds to exploit his aggression. It’d be far too easy to get stuck in a corner as he just kept battering.”

“Retreating may not be glamorous but it can keep you alive until you reach a position of strength.” Kenobi’s voice was absent as he and Skywalker joined the three of them.  “Think about your physics, you can’t crush what you can’t grip.” Kenobi seemed to recover a bit, it might have been his decade in the desert but he occasionally seemed to lose himself in thought.  His presence in the force changed abruptly, if Ezra had to describe it to Sabine or Zeb he would say he shook himself, before he turned to Skywalker with a little more vigor.  “Your father never really learned that. Much like you he was driven to be constantly moving forward.”

Skywalker soaked up everything he could about his father. His uncle had apparently told him he was a spice runner. Learning his father was a Jedi, and not just any Jedi,the Hero with no Fear himself had driven him to try to match him.  Ezra’s bruises in their spars and the burning of legs after their runs were the first signs of his success. Kenobi had clearly meant his remark to be a cautionary tale, but from what he’d seen Skywalker would do nothing but try to follow in his father’s footsteps.


End file.
